


Calm The Waters

by GaHoolianGirl



Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: (It's resolved in story), Adorable Merrill, Arguing, Friendship, Gen, M/M, Merrill being Merrill, She is a Good Friend, Silly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-30
Updated: 2017-05-30
Packaged: 2018-11-06 18:00:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11041374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GaHoolianGirl/pseuds/GaHoolianGirl
Summary: Anders may not always be the kindest to her, but seeing them like this just squeezed her heart.“You know...” she began to Isabela as though Anders wasn’t there, “I wish I had someone who loved me as much as Hawke loved Anders.”Or where Merrill is a Good Friend





	Calm The Waters

**Author's Note:**

> This was sitting around in my drafts mostly done for ages and I just added the last few sentences. This was wirtten with my Hawke in mind I just never used his first name, idk even why

“Isabela...are they fighting?” Merrill whispered, fraught with worry, repeatedly turning her head between Anders and Hawke. The pair usually sat as close as possible to one another, but now they sat on opposite ends of the table, Isabela and Merrill between them (Varric has some business in his room before he’d join them). Their efforts backfired, and they directly faced one another.

“I think so Kitten,” Isabela whispered back, “I think something about templars and injuries...I’m just waiting for Hawke to drag him into the backroom to...vent out their frustrations.”

“Why would they do that there? And are they even allowed in the back?”

“Oh, Merrill...”

The mage pouted, looking back to her friends who were warring with their eyes. Hawke pushed himself away from the table with force, muttering something about getting more ale. Ander’s brows furrowed even deeper, and he folded his arms and buried his head

_Why are they so angry?_

Anders may not always be the kindest to her, but seeing them like this just squeezed her heart.

“You know...” she began to Isabela as though Anders wasn’t there, “I wish I had someone who loved me as much as Hawke loved Anders.”

Isabela opened her mouth as to warn her off, but shut it just as quickly as she caught on to Merrill’s scheme, “It does look rather nice sometimes, even to me.”

“Hawke can never seem to keep his eyes off Anders! He’ll walk into a crowded room and Anders is all he sees! I’m jealous,” Anders stirred, “It would be nice to have someone who protected me from the templars and to hold me when I feel down...”

She was laying it on thick now, but it was working, as Anders lifted his head up, “What are you two talking about?” he grumbled, as if he hadn’t been listening intently.  
  
“Oh, just how sweet you and Hawke are! Really, he loves you so much, it’s precious. Even when he’s mad at you, he still gets you your favorite. Look!”

She was right. Hawke was walking back to the table, four mugs in hand; a frothy ale for himself, whiskey for Isabela, a light brew for Merrill, and a stout Ferelden import for Anders. It didn’t matter that he had gotten one for everyone, he had still remembered Anders’ favorite. The mage teared up a little, gently cradling the cup.

Hawke’s glare softened in concern, and he took the seat beside him instead of Isabela.

“Hawke, you love me, right?”

The warrior fumbled with his mug, standing up, “Of course I do!”

Anders took a swig of his drink, wiping his bottom lip, “I know you just got these, but...” he looked at him with smoldering eyes, “Can we go home?”

Tossing a gold piece onto the counter, there was little hesitation in Hawke’s response when he spoke, “Of course.”

Neither of them could be bothered to listen when Merrill tried to warn Hawke that the drinks he ordered were only worth a few silver, and Anders practically dragged him out of the bar. Merrill’s chest puffed with pride as she took a sip from her mug.

“Aren’t we a little pleased with ourselves?” Isabela said teasingly, patting Merrill’s back, before turning to the barkeep and asking how many drinks they could get with that money. She only grinned in response, thinking about how she was indeed very pleased with herself. She figured that when she retold her accomplishment to Varric that would be more than worth a story. But before that...

“Oh, Isabela, you never did tell me why they would need to go to the backroom to argue!”

“...oh Merrill.”

 “ _Oh_.”•

**Author's Note:**

> Man I love Merrill


End file.
